Around half an hour later, Nell knocked at the door of Xander’s friends’ house in Morton. There was a yell and a loud crash from inside, then Xander appeared at the door. His face was flushed, his shirt open to the waist, and his glasses sitting cock-eyed on top of some very tousled hair.
‘Right,’ Nell said, holding up a shopping bag. ‘I brought story books, a pan-pipe CD and some biscuits to help soothe the savage beast.’
‘Did you bring a crucifix and a couple of gallons of holy water?’
‘Come on, he can’t possibly be that bad. He’s only a kid. What was that crash I heard?’
‘He threw a Tonka truck at me.’
‘Ah.’ Nell pushed past him into the house. ‘Well, we’re bigger than he is. Plus there’s two of us and only one of him. We can handle him.’
‘The little bugger’s hidden my glasses as well. Now I can’t even see what he’s up to properly.’
‘They’re on your head, Xand.’
‘Oh.’ He groped around for them and pushed them back onto his nose. ‘Well, he must’ve put them there. His deviousness knows no bounds.’
‘He in there?’ Nell said, pointing to a door from behind which the din seemed to be emanating.
‘Yeah.’ He grabbed her arm as she went to open it. ‘Be careful, Nell.’
Nell peeped round the door into the kitchen. A stark-naked toddler with golden curls and a bright purple face was sitting in the middle of the floor banging a couple of upturned pans with a wooden spoon, only occasionally pausing to check his genitals hadn’t disappeared before he carried on.
‘He doesn’t look so bad,’ she whispered to Xander.
‘That’s what he wants you to think.’
She tiptoed forward, smiling her very brightest Reception-teacher smile.
‘Hello, Jacob,’ she said in a friendly voice. ‘That’s a pretty tune you’re playing.’
Jacob spun to look at her and his brow knit into a black frown.
‘Not! MUMMY!’ he yelled, standing up only so he could throw himself dramatically on his face in a pile of Duplo bricks.
‘He really, really wants Mummy,’ Xander told her.
‘I’d picked up on that. When are they back?’
He groaned. ‘Not for hours. I told them to stay out as long as they liked and not to worry about a thing. Idiot.’
‘Did you try CBeebies?’
‘Course I did. It worked for five minutes, then off he went again.’
Jacob sucked in a lungful of air so he could really get a handle on some good, solid screaming.
‘Um, Xand,’ Nell said. ‘You don’t happen to know…’
‘…what school his name’s down for? I do, and you won’t like it.’
‘Oh God. That means he’ll be mine in two years.’ Nell squared her shoulders. ‘Right, young Jacob. As your teacher-to-be, I insist you stop this racket right now or it’s a timeout for you, m’lad.’
Xander shook his head. ‘You can’t timeout this one. He just sits on the step and screams.’
‘Well, I can confiscate that bloody spoon off him anyway.’ Nell approached Jacob and prised the spoon from his hand.
‘Want it back?’ she asked, waggling it at him. ‘Well then, all you have to do is stop crying for me and Uncle Xander.’
Jacob looked up at her, his lips and eyes wobbling with disgust, before doubling the volume of his wails.
She glanced at Xander. ‘We could let him cry himself out. He’s bound to get exhausted eventually.’
‘Heh, you reckon, do you? He’s been at it for two hours.’
‘OK, then I think we’re going to have to try bribery,’ Nell said. ‘Work out what he wants that isn’t Mu— the M word and let him have it.’
‘Isn’t that like negotiating with terrorists?’
‘Well, have you got a better plan?’
‘God, no. Negotiate away, please.’
Jacob chose that moment to stop crying and sit up. He looked at Xander and started forming his fingers into shapes.
‘What’s he doing now?’ Nell asked.
‘It’s sign language,’ Xander said. ‘Sara teaches it, he must’ve picked some up. He’s been trying to talk to me like that all evening.’
‘What does it mean?’
‘I’m not sure but from the look on his face, I bet it’s obscene.’
Nell shuffled so she was kneeling in front of the temporarily quiet Jacob. His frown had lifted and he actually looked sort of cute, with his big, tear-stuffed eyes staring at her in mute appeal.
‘Aww. Look at him.’
‘Careful,’ Xander whispered. ‘It might be a trick.’
‘Jacob, sweetie, can you show me what you just did again?’ Nell asked gently.
She frowned as he made the same three shapes with his fingers.
‘They’re letters,’ she said.
‘How do you know?’
‘At my last school we had someone come in to show the kids how to sign their names, I still remember some of the alphabet. B-E-N, he just spelled.’
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah. Do you know a Ben?’
‘No, I – oh! Yes! That’s what his favourite teddy’s called.’ Xander dashed from the room and came back carrying a sad-looking, floppy blue rabbit with one eye.
He held it up to Jacob. ‘Is this what you want?’
Jacob’s eyes lit up and he nodded vigorously, stretching out both arms for the toy. Xander put it in his hands and he cuddled it to him, beaming.
Xander flashed a delighted smile at Nell. ‘We did it. He’s stopped crying.’
Nell laughed. ‘You’d almost think we were childcare professionals.’
‘You reckon we’re up to the challenge of getting some pull-ups and a pair of pyjamas on him or will we be overstretching ourselves?’
‘Hey. Team Us can do anything.’ She looked at Jacob. ‘Sweetheart, do you want to come upstairs?’
Jacob’s scowl returned. ‘Want Mummy.’
Xander sighed. ‘And it was all going so well.’
‘Mummy’s coming home soon,’ Nell lied. ‘She’ll think you’re a very good boy if you’ve got your pyjamas on.’
Jacob pondered this for a moment. Then with an enquiring look at the pair of them, he started opening and closing his hands in a triangle shape.
‘OK, I think even I might be able to guess that one,’ Xander said. ‘Book, right?’
‘Yeah. I guess Mum or Dad usually reads to him while the other one’s getting him ready for bed.’ She looked at him. ‘Well, Uncle Xander, what do you think? You’re the one who’s good at doing the voices.’
‘Really? You’re volunteering yourself for pull-up and pyjama duty? Because this kid really does not like wearing clothes.’
‘Go on, since it’s you.’
He smiled. ‘Nell, it means a lot that you’d wrestle a semi-feral toddler just to help me out.’
‘Well, what are friends for if not some emergency toddler-tussling of an evening? Come on, let’s get him up the stairs.’